But a Scratch
by Devil Mushroom
Summary: The Syndicate are, as usual, on the hunt for a sphere but it won't be so easy once they run into a nasty guest.


**Had a bit of free time as of late and was in the mood for writing. This is short and a one shot but I hope y'all will enjoy it, and assure you I'm not dead lol.**

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><p>The white afternoon sun was beating down on them as they shattered more of the crispy, brown grass below their feet. The vast, encircling cliffs that cradled the Calm Lands looming closer and closer, their attentive but albeit slightly worn eyes scanning it's cracked and wise surface.<p>

It was a pretty standard mission if anything at all could be said about it; absolutely nothing out of the usually, except, it was their first mission out alone, just them and the Boss. Only five weeks ago Logos and Ormi came clawing at her door, unravelled like a piece of old rope and eyes filled with the utmost and purest bleakness. It was almost hard to believe when here they were, fully clad in fine threads of silk, cottons and perhaps a little latex, full of vibrant health and moods so bright that none would have guessed there had ever been a moment in time where they were cold, starving and lonely.

Not quite the same could be said of Leblanc though, who was actually rather irritable and teetering on the edge quite cross. She had returned from a hunt with some Fem-Goons that morning, fuming that that Farglass group had just plucked a sphere she had had her eye on. To get them back, she was now venturing into their own territory, poised to pinch a sphere right from under their very noses; knowing full well they would be too drunk on their own bizarre ideological and ecclesiastical beliefs and rituals to even notice it was there to be stole away.

Logos and Ormi had spent their first two weeks training in the Syndicate's training grounds, a massive biodome of sorts that no one could fail to be impressed by. During this time Logos had had a pair of weapons specially crafted for him, all to his specific desires and needs, a duo of deadly long-barrelled, silver revolvers with exquisite polished wood handles, shaped only to fit his hands. They were beautiful and after they were first handed to him he must have spent hours upon hours in the training area testing their speed and accuracy, their mobility and flexibility as well as teaching himself how to twirl them; a trick he'd always wanted to learn. The ex-Yevonites had quickly proved their worth and experience yet their missions out with the Boss had always been accompanied by many other goons and cronies, the smallest sect they'd ever ventured out in before was in a group of six.

Leblanc knew she'd been putting off the whole affair and proper exercise of her two lackeys for some time but something about flopping down in an armchair that midday, all frustrated and catching them giving her inquisitive and perplexed glances made her think, 'maybe it was time we tried this out for real'. She had to know she could trust them, but how on Earth was she going to know unless she gave them a chance? Today seemed like a very risk free and easy mission, it seemed a good place to start.

Marching ahead she thrust a small, curved fork out in front of her, a dial at it's base blipping wildly, all kinds of numbers and graphs flickering on it's display. She tilted it upwards slightly, then shifted it a bit to her left. It's beeping quickened and it's screen went from a dull blue to a brighter yellow-green tone.

"This way!" She announced to her companions. "Keep your eyes peeled," she called back to them as she traversed a particularly steep ledge upward, "we're probably looking for a cave or gap in the cliffs of some sort."

Once she reached the top she turned to see them bumbling up, her hands on her hips and expression smug with a spark of extra haughtiness.

"It'll probably be difficult to spot, loves, keep alert and hopefully we'll find it before dusk."

"Errr..?"

She peered down at them, Ormi had his hand raised a little.

"What Ormi?"

He cocked his head and pointed behind her.

"Is that's the sort of thing?"

Her head flicked to face the opposite direction and now her stare was drawn down a narrow but very evident crack in the cliff face, it's depth ambiguous but from the way the wind oscillated about it's walls it was at least a good eighty feet.

She spun back, brows knotted and lips sucked in a bit. She could spy the shadow of a smirk on Logos's face.

"Yes, like that." She said simply, kicking a rock behind her as she trumped off, the trace of an 'ow' making it's way from Ormi's mouth to her ear.

She headed towards it's crumbling, brown curtains and peered in, but all she could view was thick, inky blackness. Logos's bony hand reached inside his coat, he too craning his neck to try and distinguish the contents of the cave.

"How deep do we suspect it is?"

He drew out two things, a small cylinder that was evidentially a torch, and nicely crafted, silver flip lighter which he quickly fumbled back into his pockets (Leblanc didn't like anyone smoking on the job).

"Does the radar say anything?"

Her forehead wrinkled a slight, and her eyes turned back down to the device in her hands. It's numbers were still fluctuating wildly, it was showing shadows around them of the surrounding cliffs but in front of them it showed the break and nothing else. The tiny purple sparkle, that was the sphere they were tracking, flipping from 30 to 40 to 200 feet away.

Her eyes screwed up with intensity and her grip began to fasten.

"Oh this thing can be useless!" She snapped, thrusting it fiercely into it's belted clip on her hip. "It's not telling us anything."

Her foot tapped, pummelling the brittle and pleading grass. Logos leered forward, flicking on the flashlight and sinking his whole arm into the crevice. It outlined the borders of a tangled path, cracked and scarred, leading downwards into a sort of pit with humid and moist air oozing out.

"Give me that!"

One of her hands yanked his sleeve back and snatch up the surprisingly powerful light source. Without any hesitation Leblanc gripped one of the mouth edges and stepping over a slight lip in it's entrance, headed onward down the throat of the beast.

"Err, um, Boss!"

Her head spun back to her taller goon, with wide burning eyes, steaming with agitation.

"As your bodyguards..shouldn't we go first?"

Logos, ever noble and courteous since he had first joined the Syndicate, stepped down into the darkness, an arm outstretched to take back the bright baton she had stole; expression a little on the smug side. Her nose crumbled in response.

"Oh for Goodness sake, love, we're in the Calm Lands. What's the worst that could happen?"

Trying her very best not to slip, she proceeded down the steep, sloping steps that nature herself had carved into the bowls of this passage. Logos, a little put out but none the less vigilant, and Ormi trailing behind her. So far she was very pleased with their loyalty, and despite her bluntness was impressed with their sincerity in their occupation.

Pebbles and stones bounced and tumbled down the blackened descent, the cone of white light from the torch sweeping over the ridges and humps but regardless the trio did stumble a few times. More than once did it's glare shoot frantically in some extremely precise location in reaction to the ping of a falling stone or the blur of an insect hovering in the peripheral vision.

Leblanc crinkled her brow and grimaced as one of her boots suddenly sunk into a substance not too unfamiliar to the texture of sticky porridge. Looking down and straining her eyes she saw that half her calf had been devoured by thick mud.

"Uuuuugh! Oh I hate it!" She squealed, "I hate wet! I hate damp! Yuck it feels disgusting!"

Her hands were waggling beside her face as she tried to detach the cold, soaking feeling constricting about her shin. She attempted to release herself desperately by tugging in short, sharp movements, it was rather amusing, it reminded Ormi particularly of a drilling construction machina he had seen in a sphere they had previously liberated from it's hiding place.

After giving each other a concurring nod, the accompanying pair gripped their Boss's arms and with a swift heave her boot pinged out of the gobbling muck.

"Eugh, disgusting!" She stamped a few times to pound some remnants off her sole. "How much further? The radar, check the radar, is it still not saying anything."

She was now bending over slightly, flicking crumbs of quickly drying dirt off of her ankle with curling and squeamish fingers. Her hip, with the radar hanging from it, jutted towards Logos commandingly. His eyes flittered over it for a moment, not so much concentrating on the machinery but on it's round, and supple pedestal. He shook his head and sighed in a way as if he was blowing hair out of his eyes. His hand outstretched gingerly and wrapped around the device, he unhooked it from it's loose, quick release buckle making sure his ring finger was left to trail behind, brushing against her lightly.

He switched it on and with a flash the glowing screen illuminated his face as he investigated the information it displayed,

"I'm afraid it's not much help boss, it's just getting that error again."

The tall man went to pivot it so she could see but before he could even turn it a fraction a bloodcurdling screech shook the cave walls.

Leblanc's precariously balanced body (still timidly peeling jigsaws of dirt away) quickly unfolded. A high pitched squeak escaping her lips as she scuttle behind the two men though her fan readied at her side. Ormi's eyes widened and great jowls wobbled as his head spun towards the origin of the sound.

They stared into the blackness once more, the odd droplet of water splashing to the stone floor was all that broke the silence.

Before a rumbling scuttling commenced.

"Whats the Hell is that?" Ormi whispered, sweat beginning to bubble on his brow as he tried to unhook his shield from his back.

"I don't know but shut up!" The Boss hissed. "What ever it is we don't want it finding us so stay quiet and still."

That horrendous hurried tapping grew all the more deeper and louder, sending shivers up their spines, eyes completely unbudging from the darkness. They could now hear dirt shifting and peddles being rolled out of, what ever it was's, path. No more shrieking, thank Yevon, but a bizarre and ugly insectoid clicking.

The black that engulfed the folds of the cave ahead began to churn. From within it's bold colour a small, beady-eyed head appeared, but with a large glinting scythe crowning it ferociously. It hissed and gurgled, drinking in the odours of the air with a flickering tongue.

"An Epaaj." Leblance whispered, eyes locked upon it. "Don't move, don't breathe, don't make a sound."

Her companions nodded without actually moving. Teeth gritting and gulping to try and soothe their dry throats.

The fiend's head slowly panned across the area, it's bladed legs prowling into their vicinity with loud and announcing clops. But it was clear it was more than aware.

A low and almost mechanical sounding growl rumbled in it's undulating throat.

Leblanc's eyes were wide and frantic, how did it know they were there? No noise, no movement. Her pupils darted about the occupants of the cave searching for what was blowing their cover.

"The radar!" She gaped, seeing that Logos's face was completely exposed in the darkness due to the device's luminosity. "The light from the radar! Turn it off, turn it off!"

Too late. The trio scattered wildly, the epaaj spitting and shrieking again as it lurched towards them. Leblanc lay flat against the wall, her fan splayed and outstretched toward the fiend. However there was no need, her fierce eyes blinked. Before her was one of her budding bodyguards, Ormi, stood firmly, stance prepared, with his shield cocooning them both. A faint and pleased smirk formed upon her face, more than happy at the man's readiness to perform his tasks; perhaps she no longer needed to drag a troupe around with her all the time, finally the Syndicate could have some damn efficiency, with more goons available for their own excursions.

But enough business pondering, where was her other one!

The darkness was so thick she could no longer see her other companion.

"Where'd it go?"

"That fiend? I's can't see nothing."

"We need to fix that, now."

The fan in her hand spun, struck tall against the air on the tips of her slender fingers. Ormi's ears pricked, stealing a look at her from the corner of his vision, her lips were moving and from them sung a hushed song; a chant. Crackles and spears of electricity began to prickle against the spiked folds and he edged away slightly not wanting to be caught by them. The fan swung downward and around her body, a crisp, blinding bolt shot out of it, splitting the damp air and stabbing the cave floor.

As the light of the energy played across their faces, a deafening boom sounded, a bullet erupting out of a silver barrel and ripping through the epaaj's head. It loomed over a fallen Logos who had faltered after the beast had slammed him into the stone wall.

The light faded again. Though the whistling of the epaaj's slicing blades could be heard, clearly trying to catch and decapitate the limbs of it's prey.

"I can't keep it lit for long! You'll have to fight it off once you can see it."

Again the fan charged and buzzed and again the thin, jagged shard pierced the darkness. A valiant Ormi charged at the callous fiend. Metal met metal with a screech. Ormi's round eyes peered over the edge of his barrier to be met by a burning pair staring back. The epaaj's leg recoiled, pulling Ormi dangerously close, it almost seemed to simper. Quickly the leg unhinged and the round man was propelled back across the cave and onto his back like a helpless beetle.

The light went out once more.

"Wha-? What?"

The great insect's throat swelled with a crow.

"Boss I's can't get near it, we's need projectiles!"

"I can't see it though."

Another bullet pierced the creature, this time in that bubbling throat. A prominent bang oscillating around the catacombs causing peddles to sprinkle down from the ceiling and dance across the floor.

"Stop firing that stupid gun!" Leblanc barked at her fallen comrade. "This passage is tiny, do you want it to collapse!"

Logos was currently imprisoned in a very ugly staring contest, trying hard not to look at the snarling maw below the blood red eyes before him. The epaaj was taller and more imposing than himself, causing him to kneel uncomfortably and from here desperately dodge it's swinging blades.

"Oh and the thunder isn't disrupting!"

He bent sideways sharply, a blade whooshing down just missing his left side.

"It's the sound and explosives you fool! Elemental's won't do it, but gunpowder certainly will!"

He slid across the wall swiftly, one of the beast's legs thrusting toward his shoulder.

"And no back chat! Or you'll get the heel!"

"The what?"

His body flung to the floor the crowning blade sung across where his neck just was.

"Ugh!"

It's putrid hot breath smothered his face, it's legs framing is body; now pinned to the ground.

In his peripheral view he saw his young boss leap forward with a fresh swipe of her fan, a strong breath pushed out of her lungs as the muscles of her arm tensed, ripping the cave with another sword of electricity. She clearly had fantastic perception, even in the dark, like a cat, the bolt stabbing the beast right through it's arched and spiny back. It's head flung upwards, howling in pain. Dust from the cave ceiling scattering it's face and a fresh, gooey, dark blue and red substances dribbling down and splattering the floor.

It's drooling jaw spun to the source, the razor fangs snapping warningly. Logos could spy the outline of her pink garbs fumbling backwards, heeding the fiend. A scythed leg stepped across him.

"Oh no you don't!"

With that the gunslinger's boot thrust into the insect's abdomen. The leg over his body buckled and a acute icy pain slashed through his chest. The creature brayed heatedly but before it turned back to the man it began to do something particularly peculiar. It hacked, and wheezed, it's disgusting gullet rippling. It's jagged jaw unhinged and a great melting glob was launched out, whacking against the adjacent wall (only just missing Leblanc) then dropping to the floor with a low 'tink'. The sticky mound bounced a little then rolled about in a semi circle. The boss looked at it, threatening to gag, but then it's liquid coating oozed onto the floor, revealing the purple sparkling of it's core. The sphere!

Despite her previous disgust she scooped it up victoriously, if she knew there was gil to be had nothing would stop the boss.

"Got it!" She announced in a tone that subtly told Logos to 'stop fooling around'.

As if he could make that choice! Those great, vicious teeth were snapping at his face, spittle spraying out and blinding him. He could not even hold the jaw away, the fangs were just as sharp as the epaaj's blades; they would pierce straight through his fingers. The gunner scraped a great wad of spit from his eye, grimacing at it's sticky texture. Peering through the remnants he spotted those teeth and mighty sickled headdress plunging towards him once more. He rolled quickly to his right but not quite quick enough.

"Logos!" He heard Ormi's voice boom.

The blade on it's head carved a great tear in his coat completely decapitating the fine woven silks he had come to love so much.

"Damn it!"

However annoyed he may have been though, at least he was unscathed but the creature's head pulled back again ready for another strike. Logos went to roll back but as he did he felt something cold catch his hand, at first he pulled away briskly worried he'd caught himself on one of the monster's sabred legs but, with eyes straining through the dark, he spied a small silver box, his lighter. The fiend trampled about, kicking it towards him and he caught it between his gloved fingers, desperate not to loose it.

Suddenly the epaaj's forelegs left the ground, rearing up. The blackness was so deep and without the beast's legs framing him he had no idea where it was or how close he was to being mauled. He gripped the lighter tight, sweat running down his brow, he flipped the lid. A brilliant, flickering white shard danced from the cap. Logos drunk in it's light but only for a second.

Before him the epaaj had it's legs together at it's chest, it's great razor spines facing down, it's body hurtling towards his. Logos flinched, looking away and uselessly covering his face with his arm. The ground around him trembled, his eye creaking open he could see the legs had repositioned heavily back to where they were. A splitting scream erupted from the epaaj's throat, it's pupils growing tiny in response to the candle. It was afraid, afraid of the fire!

Logos struck the flame towards it's ugly face and it whimpered and yelped, it's expression flustered.

"Yeah, can't take the heat? You bastard!" The gunner sneered.

The beast wailed again, absolutely terrified. Leblanc must have caught on because suddenly it burst into flames, the Boss's fan pointing right between it's frantic eyes. Completely unsuspecting of the oncoming blast, Logos pulled back hurriedly to the floor. The fire spell quickly extinguished but the petrified look in it's eyes remained.

It fumbled and scattered suddenly spinning about. The gunner smirked at it's attempt to escape, priding himself on his work, before a great and stinging force met his nose, the right side of his face colliding straight into the rock floor. One of it's strong legs had bucked him, hard. With a final squeal the cowardly creature high tailed it back into the darkness from whence it came.

For a few moments the atmosphere cooled, the thick black around them settling lightly, small puffs and pants of relief floating between it's waves. The flashlight blinked into life, a bold circle of yellow panning the area.

"Well thank Yevon that's over, what a mess. Let's get out of here, loves."

"Rights boss!"

She could hear the metallic rustle of Ormi's shield as he turned quickly on his heal; more than grateful that they were heading back home. But where was her gunner?

"Logos? Logos come on before it comes back!" She barked.

"Ors worse, brings friends." Ormi added.

Still nothing, the darkness lay still. Leblanc traced the torch along the back wall, the spotlight searching for her other bodyguard.

"Logos?"

The ring of light settled on a ragged and crumpled body on the floor, it's back facing his employer and companion.

"Uuuugh."

It unfurled and turned onto it's back. The helmet that accompanied his uniform lay a few feet away from Logos, his hair disheveled and ruffled. Dark, sticky blood was rolling off his chin all originally spilling out from a swollen nose. Despite his slightly fuzzy hearing he could hear his boss give a yelp.

"Logos!"

The beam of light flashed about the catacombs, hurried heals rushing towards him. The light resettled upon his form.

"Aaah fuck that hurt." He gurgled, coughing a little.

"Love, are you alright?"

His arms bent and, with a painful wince and grumble, propped himself up on his elbows.

"Yes, yes I'm fine."

A large glob of blood dribbled from his neck to his collar.

"But look at all this!"

"All what?"

He hadn't really realise or register that his chin and chest were strangely wet and warm though he had noticed a very strange taste in his mouth, it was almost metallic. He dabbed a finger against his upper lip bringing away a patch of red.

"Oh that, oh that's nothing, it will heal up."

Suddenly Leblanc seized his shoulders and yanked him into a full sitting position. His neck clenched at the jolt and left a crackling stabbing pain at the back of his head.

"Ah!"

"For Yevon's sake sit up! Otherwise it'll all go back and your choke!"

"It's just a scratch."

"Here I've got some Hi-Potions somewhere here."

She shoved a hand up one sleeve and then the other, rummaging desperately for her supplies.

"There's no need to waste one of those on this." Logos spoke, one of his bony fingers pointing at his smeared face.

"Yeahs Boss," one of Ormi's massive palms rested on Leblanc's shoulder. "We's been in worse scrapes before, nothing to's worry about."

Still a bit woozy from the throbbing in his nose, Logos grabbed his lonely helmet and fumbled to his feet. He grimaced, noticing the red seeping into his blue shirt but then ignored it. Two gloved fingers rose to his face and lightly pinched the bridge of his crippled nose, he hissed.

"It's only a broken nose." He announced. "I'm sure it will be easy enough to repair once we return to the chateau."

"But there is blood everywhere!" She cried, completely bemused by their cool reactions.

"Calm down, Boss."

As a man who had taken several bullets, suffered broken bones, a split skull and even a handful of nasty illnesses in his short life, Logos was equally as confused that she could be so panicked.

"Honestly I feel fine, but I must concur that we should get out of this wrenched cave."

They stepped blinking into the sheer and red setting sun, the air much more chilled but manageable than before. Appreciative of this they continued back, heading towards the great long slope that lead to the outskirts of Bevelle. Leblanc trailed at the back, behind her comrades, still fondling through her great embroidered sleeve. Until she found the item she was seeking.

Logos, eyes fixed forward as usual, heading as the crow flies and cutting straight across the now smoothed grass (see if he gave a care to those crazy Farglassians) felt another sharp jerk to his shoulder. Once again it was his pink clad leader.

"Here." She said, thrusting a fine, soft handkerchief into his face, stretching to reach his nose and skipping clumsily to keep up with his stride.

He chuckled a little at her efforts, taking it gently form her grasp.

"What is this?"

"It's a hanky, love, what does it look like?"

"A hanky?" His eyes gave her a knowing look.

"Just use it on your nose."

With that her white cheeks blushed a little, seemingly embarrassed. Logos could just hear her mutter, 'you are getting it everywhere' before she totter off in front.

Ormi's eyes gazed at the square of fabric between Logos's fingers inquisitively. They shared the same expression, one of slight confusion but also of mirth and admiration for the woman now striding ahead.

Logos raised the handkerchief to his nose, laughing inwardly are her strange ways.


End file.
